


The Short Tale of Mrs. Baggins

by Aria_Breuer



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 21:39:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13912728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Breuer/pseuds/Aria_Breuer
Summary: The role of Mrs. Baggins has been passed from mother to child, from generation to generation. So, what happens when one obsessed fangirl claims to be Frodo Baggins' wife? Lots of mischiefs ensue.





	The Short Tale of Mrs. Baggins

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimers:** I do not own _The Lord of the Rings_. J.R.R. Tolkien does.
> 
> This fanfic was sparked by Frodo’s fangirls and the portrait called “Mrs Baggins” by ynorka, over on DeviantArt. Also, this fanfic made me wonder about the title Mrs. Baggins. Enjoy. :)

Cassandra Troy moved to the back of the crowd. She was eager to claim her spot and be Frodo’s wife! Frodo Baggins was hers after all! Nothing stood in the way of their love! She knew it from the start, ever since she was first introduced to Frodo in the films and books. He truly was a splendor, someone she could rely on in the darkest times.

But how was she going to reach Bag End and meet with Frodo? Not long ago, Cassandra had received a strange letter, inviting her to attend Bag End’s party. She stepped through a portal, leaving her modern-day world for the sights of Middle-earth… or at least the Shire. The last thing she expected to see was Frodo’s fangirls, crowded around the gate. The fangirls numbered in the thousands. Oh great! She was never going to meet Frodo!

Was her obsession doomed? Would she ever see Frodo, talk with him, and hope for the best? Did he already know she claimed him as her husband? The least she wanted to do was make a bad impression! Oh, anytime now!

“That’s enough!” It was Samwise Gamgee, the sandy-haired hobbit with nerves of steel. Now Cassandra knew she was in the right place. “Mr. Frodo will see you all in bunches! We’ll start with this group. Come on!” The Hobbit said, leading fifteen girls and women into the estate.

Oh no! This was taking forever, especially with the lines on either side of the road. Now, how was Cassandra supposed to meet Frodo Baggins? She would have to wait and see—

Time crawled on. It was already afternoon. Cassandra was the last one at the front door to Bag End. Everyone else had left. She didn’t know if Frodo had already chosen his bride. What was she to do? Knock on the door? Oh yes! That was a brilliant idea!

She knocked, half expecting no one to answer. The doorknob turned and the door swung open, revealing Samwise Gamgee.

“Yes? What is it?” Sam asked, flustered.

“Oh, I thought I might see Frodo,” Cassandra said, nervous. “You know! I’m Frodo’s wife!”

“Not again!” Frodo’s exhausted voice was heard in the background.

Sam turned to Cassandra with tired eyes. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’ll have to come back another day. Everyone had their chance to see Mr. Frodo! None proved worthy! I’m sorry you came all this way to trouble yourself with Mr. Frodo.”

“No!” Frodo called out from the parlor. “Let her in! So, we can get this done and over with!”

“Mr. Frodo, you need to rest!” Sam called back, reassuring. “Please, get some sleep!”

“Sam, please?” Frodo asked, curtly.

“Alright.” Sam turned to Cassandra, opening the door wide for her. “Come in.”

“Oh, thank you,” Cassandra said, entering the estate. The entrance hall looked so simple with its coat rack, cloak rack, benches, and rounded walls and ceiling. If only she could stay here longer, then she would get what she wanted. hoping for it. Sadly, she might not get that chance. That’s what she feared anyway.

“Through here,” Sam said, gesturing to the parlor.

Cassandra entered the next room. There was a rectangular window with a wooden ledge, a stone fireplace with pictures of Bilbo Baggins’ parents, cushioned chairs next to the fireplace, and a wooden table with chairs by the window. This was where Frodo Baggins sat. Cassandra gasped, staring his blue eyes, his curly brown hair, and the way he was garbed in a white dress shirt, brown breeches, and a purple robe. He looked exhausted, given the way he yawned.

“I’m sorry.” Cassandra apologized. “I’ll come back later when you’ve got some sleep.” It was amazing how easy it was to speak to him, even though it was the toughest thing she’d ever done.

“No!” Frodo looked at her, saying, “I mean, if you leave, you may not come back.” He gestured to a chair. “Please, have a seat.” Cassandra did as she was told, sitting next to him. Frodo spoke to her again, “Now, why do you claim to be my wife? We’re not married. I’ve said this to thousands of fangirls. Some were in tears, while others learned to respect me. Then there’s you, the last fangirl, coming in at a time when I’m finished for the day.” He interrupted her before she spoke again, “No! Do not say anything! I’m sure you must have questions, but I am not in the mood to answer them.”

“Can I talk?” Cassandra asked, appalled.

“Go on.” Frodo nodded.

“I’m sorry, but aren’t you being rude?” Cassandra asked, serious.

“How so?” Frodo asked, testing her.

“How so – you let me walk into your house and tell me that we may or may not be husband and wife. How that is supposed to make me feel?” Cassandra asked, annoyed.

“Jealous?” Frodo smirked. “Go on. This conversation just got interesting.”

“Is this a game?” She asked, sternly.

“That depends on the game and whose playing it,” Frodo said, cheekily.

“Maybe I came at a bad time,” Cassandra said, getting up.

“Wait!” Frodo grabbed her hand. “Cassandra, do you want to know why I turned all those fangirls down?”

“Because you’re rude.” She answered, confused.

“You’re still going on about that!” He cried, annoyed.

“Yeah! Why wouldn’t I?” She asked, also annoyed.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Frodo said, smirking.

What? Cassandra was confused. Weren’t they still arguing? This didn’t make any sense. Was it a petty argument or were they just getting on each other’s nerves? What was Frodo’s game?

“This whole argument is getting us nowhere,” Frodo admitted. Cassandra couldn’t agree more. “Let’s try again.” He spoke calmly to her, “Cass, the reason I called those fangirls away was not out of rudeness.” He shrugged. “They weren’t the one for me.”

“So, who is?” Cassandra asked, calm but confused. Her eyes widened the moment Frodo leaned in and kissed her on the lips. It was a sweet kiss, gentle, kind. She closed her eyes, allowing him into her heart. They released too quickly. Wait. Had she missed something?

“I’m sorry.” Frodo chuckled. “That was a bit forward.”

Cassandra leaned in and kissed him back. She didn’t want to let him go. Not this time. Not ever. As she released him and rested her head against his chest, she felt that she belonged here, that she was finally home. Only this time, she was here to stay.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. :)


End file.
